"Behold, a king shall reign in righteousness, and
princes shall rule in judgement. And a man shall be as a hiding
place from the wind, and a covert from the tempest; as rivers of
water in a dry place, as the shadow of a great rock in a weary
land. And the eyes of them that see shall not be dim, and the
ears of them that hear shall hearken. The heart also of the rash
shall understand knowledge, and the tongue of the stammerers
shall be ready to speak plainly (Isaiah 32:1-4)."

The presidential Commissions set up to inquire into
disappearances recorded nearly 23,000 cases for the entire Sri
Lanka from January 1, 1988, until 1994. The bulk of these have
been attributed to state forces. The number in the Northeast is
said to be about 3000. The Southern disappearances too have some
surprises, with the Central and Uva Provinces featuring
prominently as compared with the Southern Province - reputedly
the home of the JVP. As for disappearances not registered before
the Commissions, the numbers I suspect are high in the Amparai
and perhaps Batticaloa districts, as the organized effort to
lodge complaints was feeble. In the North the LTTE is responsible
for most of the disappearances since 1990 - an unknown figure
above 2000 - none of which have been registered. I have no
reliable estimate of killings or disappearances for which the
J.V.P. was responsible. This too no doubt numbered several
thousands.

We who lived through the worst years of fear, death and trauma
clearly felt the effect of huge death machines stalking our land.
Any semblance of personal safety was wishful thinking. The
reports of several Commissions looking into these disappearances
and assassinations of some leading figures have either been
completed or are nearing completion. A number of security forces
personnel, some of whom today hold the ranks of major-general or
deputy inspector-general, have featured in testimony of alleged
complicity in large-scale disappearances. Certain top politicians
too have been deeply compromised. On the one hand, tens of
thousands of those directly affected, mostly from the rural
areas, have been crying for justice for years. On the other hand,
for most of us middle-class urbanities these reports awaken mixed
feelings of guilt and embarrassment; they come from a past we
wish to have been buried, but in reality it can never have been
or be. It is now our task to consider how to best influence the
course of events, keeping in view the future wellbeing of this
country.

Some painful dilemmas have to be faced. There is of course a
great deal of pressure to do nothing. The seemingly deliberately
procrastinated legal proceedings in fact amount to this. If that
is so, one needs to ask if society and the country can survive
such blatant disregard for natural justice? If we are agreed that
the option of doing nothing is not viable, the next question is
whether the objective of justice is achieved by punishing only
functionaries in uniform who, for the most part, were doing what
their political peers and the ruling interests in Colombo in fact
wanted or wished them to do - although this was not always
spelled out in crude terms.

In order to help us get our minds into this problem, 1 will
give a sketch of the institutionalization of state violence, of
the considerations behind it, and of the continuing consequences
for society of not facing up to it.

The Roots of State Violence

Although the Jayewardene government of 1977 was voted in with
much hope, it became increasingly mired in corruption, economic
discontent and its own unwillingness to resolve the Tamil
problem. One of its early acts to perpetuate its power was to
release JVP leaders detained for insurrection by the predecessor
government of Mrs. Bandaranayake. Another was to set in motion a
questionable legal processthat rendered her ineffective
as a political opponent. Both were intended to check the
SLFP's influence. The next step was begun in 1979 where the
PTA was followed by other legislation conferring wide-ranging
impunity for the actions of the security forces. Ostensibly this
was meant to contain the Tamil insurgency, then mostly at the
stage of bank robberies and assassinations. But that these same
provisions could be used to suppress even legitimate political
and trade union activity was clearly pointed out by the civil
rights movement at that time. These fears were fully justified by
the UNP government use of violence against trade union activities
and against peasants protesting the allocation of their
traditional habitations to a multinational. The foundations for
the very violent era that was to follow were completed with the
passage of Emergency Regulations Special Provisions, permitting
the disposal of bodies without inquest, just before the July 1983
communal holocaust.

With the ruling UNP clearly and discreditably implicated in
the murders of July 1983, the government resorted to
characteristic disingenuousness, which fooled no one but itself.
It accused the JVP it had itself released in 1977, along with
some left parties very supportive of Tamil rights, of being the
cause of the violence and banned them. The ban on the JVP was not
removed. Following the rigged referendum of December 1982
extending the life of parliament, the JVP it seemed had become a
worn-out shoe. Having no further immediate use for it in checking
the SLFP, the government smartly disposed of it as a scapegoat
for the shame of July 1983, or so it thought. The JVP built
itself up once more as an underground organization, while the
government fought an increasingly bitter war in the Northeast.
The government's deceptiveness in dealing with the Tamil problem,
the opportunism of its anti-Indian rhetoric and its final
acceptance in July 1987 of the Accord imposed by India gave the
JVP its opportunity. JVP mobilization was fed by the anti-Indian
soil sown by thegovernment for many years. Morally its
methods of assassination and intimidation were on a par with
those to which the state had bought itself by dismantling healthy
legal restraints. The July 1983 violence, the Welikade massacre
of prisoners and the use of summary killings, torture and
massacres in fighting the Tamil insurgency had left the state
with no moral foundation.

The government thus fought the JVP with the only thing it was
left with - muscular superiority in brute force and terror.
This was what happened during 1987-1989, a main part of the
tragedy we are dealing with.

Effects on Culture and Society

I prefaced this presentation with a passage from the prophet
Isaiah written circa 600 BC. What it says clearly is that when
the state upholds a just order, the minds of the people are
clear. Truth reigns and deceivers are duly exposed. On the
contrary when the order represents a perversion of justice, we
have instead a debased intellectual culture in which deception,
paranoia and the basest of propaganda thrive. To put it in
Marxist terms, we can enjoy the fullness of the world of freedom
only when the world of necessity is equitably ordered. The state
of our country leaves us in little doubt about the truth of the
aforesaid.

It is also clear that the JVP troubles of 1987-89 were about
ten years in the making. As the CRM statements show, alarm bells
had been ringing from about 1979. Yet the moral lethargy of the
ruling interests in Colombo was such that the country got ever
deeper into violence and anarchy, unheeding even the dire
consequences of July 1983.

The character of this society was brought out rather
strikingly by columnist Lucien Rajakarunayake in the Sunday
Leader. Joel Pera, the Papua New Guinean rugby coach at an
elite club in Colombo was murdered on May 1, 1997, and the son of
a key minister in the present government was implicated in the
public mind by his own conduct as well as by the blatant
partiality of the inquiry. Rajakarunayake observed: "some of
us at the Havelock Sports Club failed to hold a special general
meeting to pass a vote of condolence for our dead rugby coach who
was murdered and ask for a full, free and fair inquiry. Many
feared such a move would have adverse repercussions on the very
survival of the club." The concerns of the ruling classes in
Colombo are so trivial and so mundane that the slightest
inconvenience resulting from passing a condolence motion which
basic humanity and self respect demanded could not be
countenanced. Many of us would recall, during a time when high
crimes and massacres were taking place in the country, sitting on
committees in the academic, NGO and religious communities,
salving our consciences by polishing up statements calculated to
make the minimum impact, while being politically correct. Can
even a section of this deeply compromised class rise to the
occasion when the grave demands of justice are so pressing that
the destiny of this country hangs on their resolution? As a
society, our refusal to measure up to the demands of justice has
made us more frivolous and increasingly callous.

Among the humbler orders of society that have been most
affected by this violence the reactions to denial of justice
takes unexpected forms. To them, the state order sustained by the
ruling class appears as an unyielding cast-iron wall. Their world
becomes a meaningless one in which they have lost their near ones
and where justice has no place. The moral precepts of religion
lose all correspondence to reality. The only lesson they learn
from the ruling class is the sole efficacy of violence. I was
told by a commissioner who had sat through hundreds of
testimonies of the remarkable phenomenon of siblings of persons
killed by state forces, themselves joining the same forces. Their
sole aim was a nihilistic desire to wield the same destructive
power that had killed their brother or father. I have also been
told of instances where victims of LTTE terror joined the LTTE
while it effectively controlled Jaffna.

If, on the other hand, the society helped families of victims
to find justice and restored their confidence in its efficacy, we
would retain them as a constructive part of a society with shared
values. The denial of justice therefore leads to a divided
society. Even that section which is better served by the order is
not safe, needing to live in constant fear of the unfathomable
whirlpools of violence metamorphosing around it.

Stultification of the Intellect

For extreme nationalists in either the Tamil or the Sinhalese
camp, mass killings of their own perpetrated by the supposed
defenders of their own side has become too much of an
embarrassment to come to terms with. For example, in the rising
tide of panic-stricken Sinhalese chauvinism that followed July
1983, the Special Task Force was formed by President
Jayawardene's son. It's motto was 'Jaya Niyathai' ('Victory is
Certain'). This of course implied in the context victory against
the Tamils. In the Eastern Province the STF quickly acquired a
reputation as a killer force. This was fine as long as those
killed were Tamils. But then when the JVP insurgency erupted the
STF was deployed in the South to do the same with Sinhalese
youth. A terrible slur was then cast on the nationalist image of
the armed forces as a whole. This was a chapter of history the
extremists do not want to be reminded of. The Commission
Reports are therefore documents they simply cannot digest.
This is one key reason for the irrational frenzy with which the
Commissions have been attacked from the beginning, particularly
in the press. The result has been a further self-imposed
suppression of rational thought, particularly in dealing with the
all-important ethnic problem.

One could almost put down the outlines of a standard format
for the regular stream of lengthy articles in thepress on
the theme that the Tamil problem is a huge propaganda conspiracy.
July 1983 is dismissed as a small aberration in response to the
provocation of killing 13 soldiers. This is followed by the
cataloguing of LTTE atrocities against the Sinhalese. It is then
averred that what exists in reality is a Tamil terrorist problem
on the one hand and, because of it, an enormous Sinhalese problem
on the other. Atrocities by state forces are of course not
mentioned or are dismissed as necessary minor aberrations in the
fight against terrorism. That the Sinhalese people have huge
unsolved problems is undeniable. But these writers would not
allow a drop of the slightest hint that the tragic events of
1987-89 have anything to do with them.

In what may be broadly called the liberal camp a large section
wanted a change of government in 1994 and supported Mrs.
Kumaratunge, whose platform included setting up these
Commissions. But judging from their silences, such as when the
important question of placing implicated security personnel on
compulsory leave came up, their position today is one of a
singular lack of conviction. Perhaps being an integral part of
Colombo society carries its own limitations.

The preoccupation rather of a significant liberal section here
is to get the UNP and the government together in opening up talks
with the LTTE. Given this position the government gets accused of
using these Commissions to beat the LJNP with, rather than making
peace with the UNP in order to talk to the LTTE and end the war.
Here again one sees intellectual flaccidity that understands
neither the LTTE, nor the ordinary Tamil people nor the ordinary
Sinhalese people. Overtly or covertly there is the worship of
power, rather than reason.

The stage is set for the UNP and its major surviving actors inthis tragedy to get away scot free without any having to
account for their political crimes - crimes that brought
direct misery to lakhs of people. The Commission proceedings now
therefore stand to be branded as acts of political victimisation.
Both the Southern camps named above have thus provided ample
opportunity for Tamil extremist propaganda that is as subtle,
vicious and effective as it is destructive. This topic would of
course take us outside the immediate subject.

The Commissions: Beginnings and Pitfalls

These Commissions came into being because there was a
political demand for them among the predominantly rural
constituency, and because the promise to appoint them became part
of the People's Alliance Party's election platform.
That is a legitimate function of politics.

While the violations were going on, a good section of the
press sided with the establishment, but would not openly say so
for several reasons. There were also individual journalists who
covered these events as best as they could. This first group,
which included influential figures, showed its colours only when
Chandrika Kumaratunge, upon becoming Prime Minister in August
1994, gave effect to her election promise by exhuming mass graves
in the South. The government began to be accused of a
Dracula-like necrophilia; and of trying to punish officers and
men who had saved the country by 'fighting fire with
fire,' and whose services were now indispensable in fighting
the LTTE.

Another bout of media-frenzy came into evidence when the
Batalanda, Kobbekaduwa and Athulathmudali commissions began
sittings in January 1996. Some UNP politicians, favourites of
influential press figures, were deeply embarrassed at being
accused in testimony of direct complicity in torture and murder.
One of the strongest outbursts appeared as the lead item in the Sunday
Times of August 18, 1996. It charged the present government
with mismanagement and with failure to unite the country and
concluded with an allusion to Oliver Cromwell's words to an
English parliament: "For God's sake go!"

Blaming the present government, which had been two years in
office, with failure to unite the country was curious. The last
government had after all fought an increasingly bitter separatist
war for most of its 17 years in office, making progress neither
militarily nor politically. "Failure to unite" of
course pertained here to the Commissions of Inquiry, which it
supposed were dividing the ruling class. I refer to this to show
the mixture of acute embarrassment and hostility the Commissions
were giving rise to among Colombo's ruling elite.

A crucial phase was reached in early 1996 when a letter from
President Kumaratunge to the army commander asking him to place
about 200 personnel, including officers of brigadier rank, on
compulsory leave was leaked to the press. These were personnel
implicated before the Commissions and their suspension was a
necessary and natural step if the Commissions were to retain
credibility. The President cannot be accused of opportunism on
this point because she was, after all, fighting a war. There was
no doubt a great deal of lobbying within the government not to
implement this order. But I also cannot recall a single statement
from the NGO or human rights communities in Colombo in support of
the order. The President's order remains a dead letter. An
examination of the context would strongly suggest that this lack
of implementation had a direct bearing on the more than300
disappearances in Jaffna in the four monthsbeginning in
July 1996. This scandalous recurrence once more placed the
country among the top league of violators.

The Vijaya Kumaratunge Assassination Commission Report was
made public in February 1997. Its timing before the local council
elections may have been political, but its findings were serious.
There was much that was very embarrassing to the UNP hierarchy
and to some police top brass. But the findings, as grave as they
were, fell largely on stony ground. They face the likelihood of
getting lost amidst gossipy allegations to the effect that the
findings were politically motivated so as to blame theUNP
and let the JVP off the hook. The reality, as the Commissioners
had pointed out, is that the two key suspects mysteriously
disappeared while inpolice custody, while other suspects
with JVP links had been released almost certainly onorders
from the UNP hierarchy. The police at that time (1988-89) had
failed to pursue any leads to JVP involvement inthe
killing; and at the time of the Commission's sitting those who
could provide further information on JVP links were either dead
or inaccessible.

Early September 1997 saw another show of ruling class
solidarity whenUNP leader and leader of the opposition
RanilWickremasinghe was called to testify before the
Batalanda Commission. Previous testimony had alluded to close
links between himand a centre for torture and elimination
that was active from 1988-90. The tone of the reporting from the
'independent press' was that we were seeing a persecuted man, too
good to be where he was, bearing it all heroically. A Sunday
columnist even commended himfor having done
well--although there was little remarkable in his testimony apart
from routine denials. For a serious politician he made what is
now as it was then--an absurd claim--that the JVP had been banned
by his government following the July 1983 holocaust after genuine
police inquiries. So tame were the proceedings that this went
unchallenged. By contrast there has been not a word of pity for
the victims, some of them no doubt innocent, who endured torments
at Batalanda. The end of 1997 saw another comedy reflecting the
mood of the ruling elite. At the birthday party for the late
President Premadasa's son, Mr. Wickremasinghe was induced to
shake hands with Mr. Sirisena Cooray, the former UNP minister
featured much in the Athulathmudali Murder Commission, from whom
he had been estranged. Through the press reports one could almost
hear the ruling elite swooning, 'Salvation has come to this
land!' These events give us an indication of what is likely to
befall the Commission findings.

One should not entertain illusions, whether of this or any
future government, as long as this legacy remains unchallenged.The election violence we witnessed in the run-upto
the March 1997 local government elections suggests that the
potential for political violence is not the monopoly of the UNP
alone. The occasional but unchecked intimidation of journalists
has continued, as has the obstruction or perversion of proper
police functions for private ends. These Commission findings of
course refer to violations under the previous government. But
even under thepresent government a numberof
violations inthe Northeast are goinguninvestigated
and theperpetrators unpunished. Aninvestigation
into the bombing of refugees around the church in Navaly during
July1995 resulting inabout 125 deaths was
promised and then completely forgotten. Even where legal
proceedings have been instituted, such as for the Killiveddi
massacre, only lower ranking personnel have been brought to
court, while there is local testimony that the battalion
commander had instigated it. All these events have a direct
bearing on whether the country could stay united.

With whatever shortcomings there might have been, the
Commissions provided us with an opportunity and an opening to put
our record straight andwork towards clean government.
Instead we seem to be decided on wallowing in the dirt, and the
present government, too, has shown signs of being dragged in the
same direction. Finally, through our own inaction, these
Commission Reports may become what they need not have been--mere
political documents for throwing mud at election time.

Prospects for the Country

What I have tried to argue in the foregoing is that the
Commissions in question have been dealing with what is primarily
an acute crisis in the ruling class. It is only secondarily about
errant security personnel. The first barrier to facing the truth
about the tragedy in question is that, when it comes to the
crunch, the ruling elite are not prepared to subject the UNP and
its record from 1977-94 to critical examination. They had mostly
been consenting parties to this history. Their claim to have been
fighting 'fire with fire' falls apart if oneis bold
enough to see that the flames had been lit, fuelled and fanned by
ten years of political opportunism and criminality at the very
top. Documents put out by, for example, the CRM, ICJ and MIRJE
many years earlier show that there were no surprises. What is
even worse, the Vijaya Kumaratunge Assassination Commission has
produced confirmatory indications of cooperation between sections
of the UNP and JVP during an interval whentheir interests
converged--perhaps from August 1987 to early 1989. The majority
of the security forces were pawns in this game.

On the other hand, it would be perilous to ignore the demands
of justice. This country would continue to be an intellectual
backwater with its public life corrupt and its discussion of low
quality. Tamil extremism would have ample opportunity to have its
way if this country were to continue its present volcanic
progress.

There is also another myth by which propagandists in the press
have frightened people who may be inclined to open up. In press
attacks on the present government, the Commissions have on
several occasions been conjoined with economic mismanagement.
This is also the obverse of what has been frequently said: that
though the former government was guilty of mass violations, it
did what was necessary for the economy. Both of these positions
lead to serious misconceptions. It is not true that global
capital favours undemocratic, military or semi-military
governments which violate human rights. Investors have learned
their lessons in Latin America and recently in Southeast Asia.
Investors, such as pension funds, looking for steady reliable
returns rather than speculative windfalls, are bound to pay
closer attention to such factors as clean government, social
consensus and fiscal discipline. We are not going to achieve any
of these unless we do a thorough cleanup of our recent political
legacy.

What Needs to Be Done

If we are agreed that the cause of justice cannot be
overridden by pragmatic considerations, we are back to the
problem that the law only provides for the punishment of those
directly implicated in crimes. They would nearly always be the
ones in uniform. This would be scratching the surface of the
problem of justice. These legal procedures cannot be dispensed
with. However, in order to make them meaningful, there needs also
to be political action to make those in the political
establishment, who are by farthe mostguilty,
accountable. Should we not at least do the minimumthrough
whatever fora areavailableto us, by
telling thosewho heldcabinet portfolios during
the periods of mass violations that they are not fit to lead this
country anymoreand should step down from politics? I do
not see how we can evade this if the country is to be cleansed of
the legacy of violations. This has to become part of a public
consensus.

Against this backdrop court proceedings would become
meaningful. Questions dealing with punishment and reconciliation
must be left to be resolved between organisations of families of
victims and those found guilty by the courts. We have lost the
moral right to pronounce on this matter. This is, after all, an
exercise to restore the confidence of the victims and the
vulnerable sections of this country on the efficacy of the law
and the feasibility of a civilised order.

1The writer is an active member of the
University Teachers for Human Rights(Jaffna).